You're in the arms of an Angel
by 43n5ic fr3ak
Summary: Someone captures Brennen's heart. Songfic, but mostly story. R&R. Rated:T cause I'm paranoid!


**Disclaimer: WOOHOO! I officially own Bones! Nope! Wait, that's only the DVD box set! Oh well, better luck next time!**

**The song isn't even mine, it's called 'Angel' and it belongs to **_**Sarah McLachlan.**_

**If you haven't heard it I suggest you find it on youtube.**

**Warning to anyone who doesn't want to read stories mentioning abuse.**

It had been one of those days, one of those weeks if she was to be totally honest with herself. Doctor Temperance Brennen had just finished the worst case she'd ever worked. Like all the cases that seemed to be coming her way recently, it involved a child. A sandy hair boy, or that's what he would have looked like before he ended up on her stainless steel worktable, had been found in Saint Matthew's, a derelict church. He was just ten months younger than Parker, her partner's son. Both boys were close in height, weight; they were close to being twins. Brennen saw this as soon as they had a face and because of her respect for Booth she took full force of the case. Booth's only involvement was to handle interrogation as this was the only thing Bones failed miserably at.

After two days the case had gone dry. No leads, no suspects; the kid hadn't even been identified. To the 'squints' working his case, he became 'Matthew', named after his last known location.

_Spend all your time waiting  
for that second chance  
for a break that would make it okay  
there's always one reason  
to feel not good enough_

As the days dragged on, the case became colder. After pressure built from the god's on high the case was pulled to make way for the hottest body off the pile.

But by now 'Matthew' had captured the hearts of the squints. During working hours work was done. However every evening as the day drew to an end, the gang all met at their favourite diner or each other's home and continued to work the case. The evenings multiply and the support dwindled until eventually the only person left fighting 'Matthew's' corner was Doctor Brennen. Her days became so consumed with _her_ little boy that it came to the point when all her emotion for the boy over flowed into her night. Her dreams of helping the sandy haired boy mutilated into nightmares of failure, of a little boy pleading in the darkness for help, but in every corner she turned he was nowhere to be found.

_And it's hard at the end of the day  
I need some distraction  
oh beautiful release  
memory seeps from my veins  
let me be empty  
and weightless and maybe  
I'll find some peace tonight_

Temperance Brennen spent all her extra energy, and then some, on finding 'Matthew'.

_In the arms of an angel  
fly away from here  
from this dark cold hotel room  
and the endlessness that you fear  
you are pulled from the wreckage  
of your silent reverie  
you're in the arms of the angel  
may you find some comfort there?_

Her friends started to question her health. When the weeks began to turn into months they demanded she let him rest.

_So tired of the straight line  
and everywhere you turn  
there's vultures and thieves at your back  
and the storm keeps on twisting  
you keep on building the lie  
that you make up for all that you lack_

Brennen reluctantly agreed and sombrely began to collect her depleted amount of research together and orderly file it away.

It was then that she came to a vital piece of information. When searching for his true identity at the very birth of the case, the team pulled out all reports of suspected abused children. Each folder had a different face but the same story. A third of the way through the pile was a report on an _'Adam T. Martin'_ this boy was five years older than 'Matthew' and was just placed to the side with the other _unwanted_ children not fitting the profile. All these now had to be handed back for another time.

_It don't make no difference  
escaping one last time_

The bubbling frustration was now deep within Temperance, and with that emotion came clumsiness. She slammed each folder upon the last with force, such force that she sent several floating to the floor. Bits of information scattered across the floor symbolising the lives of these fallen angels. Tears escaped at the corners of her eyes. They frantically dashed down her cheeks out of the way of the ones that followed. Irritated, she haphazardly collected scraps of invaluable paper together. One face projected itself out of the jumble of photocopies. A photograph holding the face of a badly beaten boy was stapled to the inside cover of a folder. A sandy haired boy grimaced at the camera. His features were hard to define under the blackened bruises. His hazel eyes squinted into the light. Dry blood stained his cherub cheeks. This was an older face of 'Matthew'.

Brennen dropped the fluttering papers that she had collected and hesitantly reached for Adam's file, almost afraid it would vanish. Her shaking fingers gripped the spine of the shockingly thin booklet of information. Opening it she found the page she was searching for. The first piece of paper was a case review; she placed this to the side and went to the second. The paper was speckled with sentences holding facts on Adam's life. After his birth date and place of birth was the part that held hope, or disappointment. Following the names of his parents was further notes on his family.

Temperance's eyes sparkled with new tears. Adam had a brother, five years younger that himself, 'Alexander Joseph Martin'. A photo of the two boys had been slipped in. The boys looked identical. The only evidence of their ages was the height difference.

Brennen could just imagine them together, Alexander following his big brother where ever he took him. The dam walls crumbled and the emotion that had built that last month bounded forward. Her weary body slid to the floor as she read on.

_It's easier to believe in this sweet madness oh  
this glorious sadness that brings me to my knees_

Adam and Alexander lived in Washington D.C until their mother had had enough of the physical and emotional abuse put upon her and her baby boys. This folder was just one of the results of a drunken father.

Their mother ran but not before Adam had ended up in an eight month coma after reportedly 'falling from a tree' and sustaining fist shaped head injuries. Adam was taken off life support just before his tenth birthday. Seeing her last child in danger she fled the state, heading it was believed, towards her sister in Arizona.

_In the arms of an angel  
fly away from here_

She never arrived and they have never been found.

Alexander's father still lived in Washington. His address three blocks from Saint Matthew's. Within seconds Temperance was on the phone to Booth and heading for her car.

_From this dark cold hotel room  
and the endlessness that you fear  
_

After weeks of no leads and a despicable creature thinking he'd gotten away with murder. Andrew Martin was pulled in for questioning and three days later charged with both murders of Adam and Alexander. He claimed his wife got away.

Media coverage was an extreme with the arrest of a murder. Temperance used this opportunity to find their mother. There was no such luck. Matthew's eyes and angel smile had pulled at Temperance's heart for nearly two months. She felt it her duty to reunite the Martin brothers, even if it was in eternal sleep.

The day of the funeral the crowds gathered to pay respect to Saint Matthew's Angels. Every news channel arrived to film the monumental event. At the very front stood Doctor Temperance Brennen, her partner Special Agent Seeley Booth and the 'squint squad'. Two horrifyingly undersized coffins held the crowd's gaze. Exquisite arrangements of flowers congregated at the base of both white caskets. The beautiful service came to an end and the crowds began to disperse.

Temperance, alone made her way to the boys. The only flowers actually on the caskets were the two from her, one each. The vibrant yellows of the sunflowers, roses, tulips and lilies made her smile. This was just how she wanted to remember this case, remember Alexander, a little boy who had so quickly captured her heart, something she thought no one could do.

_You are pulled from the wreckage  
of your silent reverie_

Movement to her left pulled her from here contemplation. Expecting Booth she was surprised to see a woman in her thirties placing a single yellow rose on the ground. Like with all the others it had a thin piece of card balanced on top. It just said three words.

As quickly as she came, she turned to leave. The crowds just in the distance and even the camera crews distributed around the cemetery were all dressed in the Sunday best. This woman however wasn't. Her hair was scraggly, pulled back into a hair-tie. Her clothes hung limp on her skeletal frame. Her tears glistened out over the grime that covered her cheeks.

"Wait…" Temperance cried out over the silence of the day. The woman suddenly spun, fear etched deep into her aging appearance. "…you came." She stated simply.

"What?" the woman's expression was confused, but not by the question but how Brennen knew. "How did you know?"

"That you'd come or who you were?" Temperance gingerly edged towards the tense figure.

"Both?" surprising herself she also step forward.

"I knew you'd come because you loved your boys…" she gestured in the direction of the flowers. "…you tried to save them. I knew who you were because you have the same kind and gentle face as Adam and Alexander. And…" she retrieved the rose from where the woman had just placed it. "…Alex, Adam. Sorry." Brennen read from the card.

"But how could you know from that card it was me?" her posture relaxed slightly when she realised Temperance wasn't anger.

"To everyone else that came today they are the 'Saint Matthew's Angels' you are the only one to use their names. I think this belongs here…" turning to the coffins she placed the rose on Adam's; she then pulled one from her own array of yellow. "Here, you can give them both one now." She handed it to her and stepped away giving the mother a few moments alone with her children.

_You're in the arms of the angel  
may you find some comfort there  
you're in the arms of the angel  
may you find some comfort here _

A/N: Holy Moo! This is not how I planned this story when I set out. At the beginning it was cheerful, sarcastic and if I say so myself funny. Where the hell those ideas when I have no idea. By the time I finished this, the light-hearted story had already been hijacked by one very depressing song! Please let me know what you think!


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